love measured against your lips
by of self
Summary: Sometimes in order to find what you were searching for, you had to go back to the place where it all began. Eventual Dan/Blair.


**.love measured against your lips.**

/

He's thirteen and she's fourteen and they are sitting out on the fire escape, amongst swirling snow and biting winds. Her cheeks are pink and bright and she's going away and all of a sudden there are all these feeling s overwhelming him, feelings which his awkward thirteen year old self cannot handle and which have been welling inside of him for the better part of six months. The moment she turns to look at him, grey eyes sparkling and questioning, he feels overcome by a sudden bout of bravery and plants a chaste kiss on pink bitten lips.

He's surprised and so is she but by the time he can get any reaction, she's gone, and he's left sitting on the fire escape, wisps of fluffy snow, falling on his face gently.

She comes back three years later but by that time he's already fallen in love with the girl of his dreams—so golden and pretty—and that breathless infatuation he felt for her once upon a time is long gone.

Only later on he remembers but what the kiss was like. It was sweet and yet, it's only a vague clouded memory. Sort of like vanilla, pleasant but forgettable.

All he remembers now are small disjointed fragments of it and the most vivid fragment is the one where see's sees her black curls fly as she races down the steps.

He also remembers how the kiss tasted like goodbye and heartache, bitter and slightly sweet.

It's hazy and it only exists on the fringes of his memory, like yellowed and fragile parchment but it's still there and it's etched with black inky heartbreak which he never really got over. But the thing is, it's still there.

(Vanessa.)

/

He's sixteen and full of awkward eagerness to kiss her—this perfect princess who he adores and worships and when he does, it's everything he ever wanted. She tastes like sunbeams and her skin is like supple silk flowing through his fingers, smooth and cool—beautiful.

He maybe a little awkward and but she smoothes over the awkwardness and whisks him off in a whirlwind of cotton candy pleasure, sugary and sweet with a side of tart, a harshness he supposes comes from having lived and jetted off to far off places, all in the blink of an eye, all the while holding onto a dry vodka martini with plenty of olives.

It's feels like he's drowning in a haze of gold and cream.

He luxuriates for a while because it's novel and decadent and he's from Brooklyn where sometimes things take on a Spartan aspect.

After a while, the feeling of euphoria fades and when he scratches beneath the surface, he discovers much to his dismay that it was quite shallow. It's a little empty and there are only fragments floating around, memories on a yatch , sailing on blue seas and mellow days, with Prince Charming on a bar top and then there are a few others. She's still searching and hanging on to the scraps and with gentle certainty he realizes that he will become one of those scraps of memories too.

And to be honest, he knew somewhere deep down, that this wasn't forever but this was now or never. He's okay with it though.

He now knows what gold and cream tastes like and while it's was wonderful and beautiful at times it was overwhelming and cloying.

He'll leave her to her searching and continue on. She won't be bitter because she will always smile no matter what and he's not bitter because he took a plunge.

Now it's time to grow up.

(Serena.)

/

He's in college and a little older but somehow he's not sure a little wiser because there's no way he can explain how one moment he's downing a pint and the next moment he's up against a wall and tasting sour cherries, smooth and self assured.

This whole thing is new and it's a situation where he seems to have no control and where's he's simply spinning in circles and colliding against walls and running into empty classrooms. With her, there's always a sense of desperate sense of urgency and sometimes he tastes blood, not his own. He's shocked when he finds purple imprints of his fingers on dewy fair skin because this is not who he is and it's not who he has ever been or will be.

It's exciting, it's thrilling and it's like taking a walk on the dark side but he's not sure if this is what he's been looking for. She's lovely and a lot broken and her dark eyes always glitter with things he cannot understand and while he thinks he may love her, he's not sure if he likes her.

When he tells her, her mouth moves up in a quick little smirk and while he thinks she's amused, he can't help but get the feeling that he did see something close to hurt flash through her eyes. Through gentle mockery she pushes him away and when he uneasily smiles back, he realizes that while he may have loved her, she loved him and he just may have broken her heart.

The next time her sees her, she's on a table top, hair flying and skin glistening with the sheen of sweat and she smells sweet and a little bitter. He takes her down from the table and carries her into her room. He then tucks her into her bed and drops a gentle kiss on her head.

He hopes someday she finds the Prince Charming she's been so obviously searching for.

There's one thing he knows for sure though.

He's not her Prince Charming. He's just that guy drifting by too, searching for his Princess and happily ever after.

(Georgina.)

/

He's in the middle of college now and there's this girl. She's beautiful and brilliant and she makes him a little mad because he can never make out of she hates him or likes him. They toe a thin line and are friends or enemies depending on the day and how she's feeling. She bites his head off and she criticizes his dress with delicate disdain and he doesn't miss a chance to sneer at her antecedents yet at the same time, he would be lost if she weren't there by his side, urging him and berating him with smooth and sharp words.

But day by day, what they have it grows stronger and plants it roots deeper and there are some days when she grudgingly admits that she is indeed fond of him, and somebody stab her now please.

She looks delicate, like tiny jasmine flowers in the rain and sometimes when she isn't looking, he leans a little closer, just to catch a whiff. It refreshing and cool with a faint hint of warmth and he likes it.

Some days she tells him what he never knew and some days she holds his hands tight in her soft ones because they remind her of home.

She leans her head against him and when he reads his stories to her, she wont tell him what's wrong, she's just leaves these little post it notes on the pages, with hastily scribbled words of encouragement or criticism.

In many ways, she's become the one person he depends on, who his life revolves around and he can't even begin to think of a day where she isn't there. The realization that he's fallen in love with a girl he'd always thought he'd hate is a quiet moment and it comes without any fireworks. He supposes that that meant he'd been expecting it all along, subconsciously of course. The writer in him cannot help but acknowledge the irony of it all and but what worries him more is telling her. To be honest, he kind of fears for his life.

He knows that she gave up on her dreams long ago and that swore she'd never love again—and one thing he'd always loved about her was the fact that she keeps her promises, but there's a part of him that wont rest until he tells her. This whole thing is like a powder keg waiting to blow and he's filled with the insane urge to smash his head into a wall.

For a few weeks he keeps it inside and it's like a dirty little secret because e it keep trying to get out but he just pushes it in deeper aware that the consequences will not be good. However the day comes when he and she are sitting on the steps of the library arguing about his shoes and he suddenly blurts it out. The silence after that is deafening and for a few moments, the blood pounds in his ears, making him feel dizzy with regret. His stomach begins to churn because it's the beginning of the end.

She stares at him, her eyes wide and her rose pink cheeks pale. She lifts calm cool hands to his face and draws him closer, pressing a soft chaste kiss against them. For a moment the world swims and he's soaring and suddenly everything is over and she as she leaves, her steps are light but her shoulders weighed down, and when he comes crashing back to earth all he can do is stare at her retreating back.

Her lips tasted like sweetened strawberries and apologies and he knows that he's locking away this memory to keep him going. Sometimes you find your person but nothing will ever exist until they find what they've been searching for.

Someday she'll be back and he'll wait for the day she finds it in herself to come back.

(Blair.)

/

He's older now and an author and as he looks around the pretty young things walking around him, talking about how much they love or hate that other person, he definitely knows he's a little wiser.

He's back for a reunion and he frankly admits that if it weren't for Jenny, he wouldn't be here. He didn't love his classmates and he's pretty sure they didn't love him either but he goes because he's human and curious and he wants to know if they are happy. In the actual sense of the word.

He's see's her first—Vanessa and he see's Nate holding her waist lightly and watching the light bouncing off her curls. She enthusiastically greets him and he smiles back. Laughter bubbles through her voice and while she talks, he watches Nate watching her and concludes that they are happy. He congratulates them and retreats, giving them their space.

He finds her next—Serena and he is somewhat surprised to see her with Carter. He rightly guesses that she held onto those scraps of memories because she never could forget the first boy she fell in love with. She's still pretty and golden but instead of hard edges that once graced her beautiful face; he can see a soft glow emanating from it. It's a little radiant and golden and when she smiles at him blue eyes and all, he can't help but smile back. He lifts his glass of sparkling champagne and nods her way and she accepts with a graceful nod of her head. He's glad she's stopped running and finally found what she's been looking for.

He then looks for her next—Georgina and he finds her sitting at the bar, drink in her hand watching him. He wonders if he should go say something but she smiles, wide and natural and he doesn't see any mockery. Her eyes don't hold and dark secrets and gets the feeling she's light and airy now. She may not have found the Prince Charming yet but she's found something else she's been missing for a long time.

Peace.

That little bit of guilt he has been carrying over the years finally melts away into oblivion and this time he finally allows himself to look for _that_ girl. The unnamed reason as to why he's here.

She's sitting at a table and she's looking around a little wistfully, toying with her curls, framing a heart shaped face. His heart speeds up and his palms are suddenly sweaty. He feels like a teenager again, nervous like's he's going to crash but somehow he finds himself at her table, hoarsely saying her name.

She looks up and her eyes light up and her face break into a smile and something runs through his body as if it were on fire. He feels dizzy and as she throws himself into his arms, he's almost bowled over but his arms tightly wind around and there's a vague thought floating in his head which decides that this time, even if she wants to run, he's not letting her go.

Or at least, he's getting a goodbye out of it.

"You came," he says, still a little dazed and he thinks it must be the jasmine flowers which are now working on him.

"I found what I wanted," she says simply. Her raises an eyebrow and she further elaborates by kissing him.

This time, she tastes not of strawberries and apologies but she tastes of sugar and spice and everything nice. It's what love is made of.

And that is when he realizes that this is that happily ever after that he's been waiting for. Because He already knew she was his princess a long time ago. Actually, he always did.

And now she knows too.

Because sometimes to find what you are looking for, you'll have to go back right to start.

To where it all began.

(Dan and Blair.)

* * *

I have no qualms in saying that this is absolute nonsense. But I am trying to get out of a particularly bad case of writers' block and this has been languishing as half done for far too long. So yeah, my lame attempt at Dan/Blair and kicking writer's block.


End file.
